May
by EsophagealEruption
Summary: May is on her way to Polly's, after discovering Polly had another lover – Ambrosia – and is attacked on her quest by a pair of muggers. Left critically wounded, May is found by Polly on the brink of death. Something supernatural occurs, and...
1. Chapter 1

Lizzi Marie: ...Well. Um...How to start? Hikari, you do the honors. :bows:

ChildofaBrokenDawn: Okay, then! Hello, dear reader! As you may have guessed, my esteemed co-authoress and Iare May fans, and one night, as we spoke of many important issues in our society (like zucchini bending and Donald Trump's hair, and our D. Trump sprite, Trumpy), I blurted out a random idea: What if Polly was a vampire? The idea grew, changed, and exploded into a plot bunny, which rabidly proceeded to gnaw at our legs, refusing to _not_ be written. So, after thirteen hours of AIM chat and 23+pages of ideas and discussion, we are pleased to present you with the first chapter of our insanely awesome plottage!

Lizzi: Yes, um, May. She's very nice and pretty and... This story is about her and-

ChildofaBrokenDawn: Polly! Because MaLly rocks.

Lizzi: Agreed! Trumpy..Could you..Say a few words?

Trumpy: You're fired, you're fired, you're you're you're fire fired, you're fired, fired you are. You're you're fired, are you fired, fired fired are you! Fired, fired you're fired you're fired, fire you're fire, are you fire you're fired you're. You are fired, fired fired you are! Fired! You're you're fired you are fired, fired you you fired're you.

Translation: May is on her way to Polly's, after discovering Polly had another lover – Ambrosia – and is attacked on her quest by a pair of muggers. She intends on furthering her quest to collect the most top-quality parts in order to build herself the perfect mate, and is intent on taking Polly's neck for her doll. However, the attack leaves May in a bad situation, and Polly is forced to make a decision. Thank you, and please review! **Oh! And we don't own "May" and these ladies do not own me! **

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

May stepped carefully on the uneven sidewalk, pulling her cooler along behind her. She was only a couple blocks from Polly's home now, and her mind was fogged over with images of the woman, mainly her neckline. Porcelain-looking, delicate and soft, the perfectly sculpted clavicle and lower jaw framing it beautifully. Such intricate, gorgeous geometric perfection...As though her neck had been carved by the gods. Such thoughts clouded May's mind so profusely that she didn't notice the not-so-quiet footfalls behind her.

"Now," they roughly muttered word caught her attention, and she glanced around, startled. Someone grabbed her from behind. He smelled like stale cigarettes and cheap beer, and she could feel his wiry frame practically spasming with excitement. Another fellow came up to her left, and started patting her down briskly. She slid her hand down, and took a scalpel from the pocket on her dress, and the guy patting her left side got to her shoes, removing them and checking for cash, she presumed. She lifted her right hand to waist level, bending it at the elbow as to not immediately attract the thieves' attention.

As she brought her hand – and the scalpel – backwards, the third guy took notice. And, as the surgical knife was driven, rather forcefully, into the wiry boy's thigh and ripped down and outwards, she was released. The holder cursed and grabbed his leg, glaring at her, and reaching into his own pockets. The pat-down man twisted her ankle, and dragged her down. She caught a glimpse of his face with the help of a nearby street lamp. He wasn't old – he might be only two or three years younger than May - and she growled at him, slicing at him with the small knife. She caught a good slash above his left eye, an incision cutting an inch above the eyebrow, through the eyebrow, passing over the ocular cave, and continuing down the cheek, curving where she started to bring her hand back, along the jawline. He yowled in pain and released her ankle, allowing her to scuttle backwards a few feet. She tried to stand, but a dull fire in her ankle flamed quickly and fiercely when she tried that – not an option.

Guy number one was limping towards her, and Guy Two was holding his face, fumbling in his pockets, too. She leaned on one arm, and pulled another scalpel out of her pocket. She sat up, and Limpy came forwards quickly, jabbing at her. She saw the glint of metal, and put up her arm, and rather than slashing her face, he gashed a five-and-a-half inch tear curving from four inches apart her wrist to just above her elbow. He snarled and struck out again, slicing a two-inch cut on her wrist, tearing a small abrasion above the artery in her wrist. Another cut there or trauma might cause the abrasion to open and just spew blood everywhere. Limpy growled again, and slashed again, catching a good, deep nick mid-forearm, and she pushed forwards, driving the blade deeper, and the unexpected force made him slip, drawing the blade down the remainder of the arm, and causing him to fall forwards. She grabbed his hair and pulled down hard, and his head connected with a sickening thud with the concrete. He stopped, looking blankly at the sky.

Guy Two came at her, then, and slashed openly at her from his grounded position. She pulled her legs to her, and he only made a light scratch on her shin. She tried to stand again as he lumbered upwards. He made a diving stab, and she rolled out of the way, over Limpy. He woke up a little, then, and slapped at her face. Although Limpy was still out of it, the smack woke her up even more, and she stood, ignoring the bolts of pain shooting up her leg.

Guy Two picked himself up, having sprawled himself disgracefully from his diving blow, and staggered to his feet. He lunged again, and slashed at her chest. She dodged best as she could, bum ankle, and he cut her open from part of the skin covering her sternum to the center of her left shoulder. It wasn't deep, and the strap of her dress fell, hanging limply. As she dodged, Limpy grabbed at her with his free hand, and caught her dress. She tumbled backwards, falling over the guy and onto her butt, on the rough sidewalk. She felt the asphalt cut painfully into her thighs, and Limpy slashed lamely at her, nicking her shins lightly in places, causing one-to-two inch cuts everywhere below knee level. Guy two lumbered at her again, and she crawled backwards. Limpy cut her a good one on the left ankle, and she cursed, feeling an awkward looseness and disability to move parts of that foot. Guy Two tripped over Limpy, and stabbed her in the shoulder, then above the clavicle, growling like a mentally tapped chihuahua on anti-depressants. His next attempt missed, and May hissed, jabbing him in the stomach with her scalpels. He growled, and spit at her face, trying to blind her.

"She ain't...Wally, she ain't gotta money?" Limpy asked, rolling over and pushing himself up.

"No," Wally snapped, and grabbed May's wrist mid-swing, twisting it painfully. At that moment, the abrasion Limpy'd given her earlier started to bleed profusely, and she yowled in pain.

Wally's eye ballooned at the sight of that blood – it was like a river, and he let go immediately, stepping back. May took it close to her, putting her mouth over the wound, to no avail. Her lips bloomed red, and rivulets came down her chin. Wally took a step back, and Limpy just stared. Her wrist was going the wrong direction – and that trauma had finished the rupturing of the major artery in her wrist. She looked like a sprite of agony and murder, in her bloody, tattered, but beautiful clothes, disheveled hair..Covered in blood not only her own... He felt himself become aroused, then inexplicable frightened. At that moment, she looked up. Her lovely chestnutty eyes were fierce with anger and the fear of death. He turned and fled, dropping his knife on the asphalt. Wally left, too, spitting in her hair before he did, cursing her for scaring him and, more importantly, not having any money.

May felt a blackness seep into her head. It was like the onset of a sleeping pill. Slow blackness and numbness overtook her mind, and she woozily stared into the nothing of the night, and she saw a feminine figure, slinky at first, then quick and sharp as it came closer. She saw Polly's neckline, and smiled in ease, at last accepting the darkness, and falling limply to the ground.

The brunette Polly cursed under her breath, pulling May farther from the street lamp. A trail of crimson followed them, but there was nothing Polly could do about it. Besides, it was supposed to rain later tonight, and that would take care of it. She felt for a pulse on May's neck, and sighed, relieved when she found one. However, it was weak, and thready. She looked at May's wounds, specifically ones that could potentially lead to death.

First the neck and chest. The slice across the chest was worrisome, but it wasn't deep enough to cause much damage. Her chest was fine, and Polly didn't see any slits to be worried about in the dress. Then, she checked the main leg arteries, grimacing at the condition of May's ankles, and looked back at her arms. The left one, save the shoulder, was fine, but the right was slashed up pretty badly. Then Polly noticed the nick on May's wrist, and cursed. Unlike May, Polly did not know the basics of suturing wounds, or anything of that nature. She only knew one way to heal a wound.

Polly felt her canines shifting, and although she didn't really want to, the scent of May's blood aroused the primal nature of her dark side.

'Besides,' she thought quickly, 'May is far too talented a seamstress..Far too lovely a woman..Far too intelligent and good at what she does to die right yet.'

Polly ran the tip of her tongue over the canine, slicing into it precisely. She lowered her mouth to the wound on May's wrist, and tasted the blood tentatively. It was quite rich, really, like a good glass of ripe French wine, or Bavarian chocolates, straight from the factory. Polly, at least knowing a great deal about anatomy and body systems including the vascular system, found the pulsating artery, which was only performing at half-productivity. Half the blood was leaving the artery, and half of it was going through. She put the tip of her bleeding tongue against the nick in the artery, which was no bigger than perhaps three-fourths of a millimeter, and sucked at the blood exiting the artery somewhat greedily. The blood was rejuvenating, and Polly's heart beat quickly, a sharp stinging in her mouth informing her that her "infected" vampire blood was leaving her body and bonding with May's human cells and upping their metabolic rates.

Almost instantly, almost _magically_, within five minutes of the beginning of Polly's process, the scratches on May's legs began to clot and scab over, and shrink in size. Polly felt the artery begin to close up, and she started to pull back. Another few minutes passed, and May's arms were scabbed over completely. Polly frowned and sighed. May was breathing lightly. It started to sprinkle, and Polly frowned. The crimson trail dissolved into the concrete as the rain picked up a bit. Polly bent over and grabbed May, holding her in both arms like a child. She began walking back home, thinking about what she'd just done.

The chemical compounds in Polly's blood would heal May, of course, but..Unless Polly changed May into a full vampire soon, then May's blood could attack itself, and have a result similar to an auto-immune disorder. Her systems would fail consecutively and rapidly, and she'd die painfully over the course of a day or two. Polly frowned. What had she been thinking? Besides dessert, that is. The brunette shook her head, and rearranged May in her arms, stepping onto her driveway. Ambrosia had, indeed, been very delicious, and Polly _had_ been looking for dessert, and May was available, and May was also interested..Polly liked her..Why not?

Polly pushed her nagging, logic-challenging thoughts away. She would deal with the consequences of either torturing and killing a human by sanguinary infection, or the bloodlust of a new vampire within the next week. Stepping over the threshold of her home, she considered her very slim options.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Lizzi Marie: :looks up: Well, I hope you liked it. You best come back for the next chapter, it's ChildOfABrokenDawn's turn to write!! :scorepose:

ChildofABrokenDawn: :nods: I hope you did, too. And yup, I'm writing the next one!! :dance:

Tumpy: :returns, with a jar of peanut butter: You're fired, fired fired fired you're... you're you fired are you're. You're fired, you're you you are fired, you. Fired! Fired You are you're!! Fired you. You're you are fired. 8

Translation: Man oh man, do I love me some good peanut butter...And my amazing hair. Well, that's all for this chapter, guys. Thanks for reading! Please review for these lovely authoresses!! And me. I'm awesome. 8

Lizzi Marie and ChildOfABrokenDawn: :huggle Trumpy:


	2. Chapter 2

Alright!!! Chapter 2 is up!!! Thanks to ChildofABrokenDawn for writing this one, she deserves lots of praise and hugs and cookies. :]]]

Trumpy:Fired, firedfiredyouarefired fired you. You! You're fired fired you fired fired you're you - fired you're!!! :]]] Fired, you!!

Translation: Yeah, ChildofABrokenDawn wrote a good chappy. Oh! And thanks to our first reviewer - Bandicoot!!! Thanks, bud! :]]

Lizzi Marie: Yup, we got a reviewer. AWESOME.

ChildofABrokenDawn: Agreed! 'Tis amazing. :]]

Lizzi Marie & ChildofABrokenDawn: Yay!!! *huggle* Well, we are looking to be the first at something, might should be something as awesome as this hardcore movie...:]

Lizzi Marie: :]

ChildofABrokenDawn: Aye! And now onto Trumpy, our lovely [realistic] muse!!!

Trumpy: Fired! You're fired fired fired you are you're you fired. Fired you you're, fired!!

Translation: Oh! Thanks for coming back to read the second chapter. Read and review, please!!

-----

"Honey, we're home."

Polly stepped over the threshold and nudged the door closed with her shoulder. Kicking empty bottles, boxes, and other single-girl detrius aside, she made her way to the sofa and gently deposited her burden on the red and white plastic. Continuing her one-sided conversation, the young vampire sat down, grabbed the remote, and began channel surfing.

"So, how was your day?"

"Mugged? Well, that sucks! Anything else interesting happen?"

"Yeah, I wondered why you weren't at work today...Family emergency? Heartbreak? You finally snapped and went all 'Nightmare on Elm Street' on some poor bastard?"

Polly reached over and nudged May slightly. "Wake up, pretty lady." Nothing happened.

With a snort, the brunette said, "Okie-dokie. Let me know if you're planning to regain consciousness sometime this year." She slid off the sofa and examined the objects she'd found next to her bleeding lover. The two scalpels were covered in blood, presumably from the punks she'd seen limping away from the area; Polly licked the flat of one blade and tasted alcohol in the vital liquid. She rolled her eyes.

Those kids probably had less than no idea what they were doing. Idiots.

Plopping down on the carpet, she began to examine the unconscious girl's wounds. They were still healing, the angry red color of the scabs dulling to a dusky burgundy. Even the nearly-fatal gash on May's wrist was now only a puckered scar, and soon not even that would remain to mark her brush with death.

An inexplicable anger surged in Polly as she gazed at the multitude of cuts. Wimps too, if they couldn't rob a 5'1", 100-pound girl without using her as a pincushion. She stroked the long, reddish-brown waves of May's hair lightly and regarded her with a small smile.

"You'll be okay," she said with a chuckle. May remained silent and unmoving, but Polly wasn't worried. Probably just the soporific chemical in the vampire blood keeping her out, a totally normal occurance during the change. Polly herself remembered the numbness, the state of utter non-being as her body had become more than human. Or perhaps "non-remembered" would be a better word.

She giggled and squirmed out of her black pleather jacket, tossing it giddily over the sofa. Non-remembered. Was that even a word? Was it even a thing? If not, it should be.

"Maybe I'll write in to ol' Webster tomorrow. 'Put non-remember in the dictionary right now, or I'll...I'll...'" Polly's words faltered, and she dimly remembered the cosmopolitans she'd given Ambrosia. How many had the prostitute downed?

Another giggle escaped her lips. "Enough to be pretty damn smashed. So now it's kicking in. Whoo! Party at Polly's crib to-NIGHT!"

"Too bad you're gonna miss it, baby," she added, kissing May's forehead. "I'll tell you all the good parts tomorrow."

With that, the still-sniggering vampire stumbled down the hall (removing her t-shirt as she went) and into her room, then collapsed on the bed.

******

May was not there.

May was not anywhere. It was a nice feeling, or rather not-feeling; she simply wasn't and all the things she had done could not catch up to her here. To stay like this forever would be better than going back.

This comforting blackness washed the blood from her hands. But something was wrong

A faint itch was growing in her arm. Its area widened and it intensified into a burn. The burn spread and swelled...

Then pain ripped her body apart.

She couldn't breathe, couldn't see, but this was not her wonderful non-existance. Still engulfed in blackness, May had been thrust back into her mind and could feel the world around her. She was lying on plastic, which was fast becoming sticky with sweat as she writhed; a cool breeze told her that wherever she was had air conditioning, but it did her little good.

The fire was not fire now, but pure pain, as acute as anything May had ever inflicted on herself. Every nerve in her body screamed that something was, indeed, horribly wrong.

Her lungs cleared for a split second, and a scream of desperation burst from her throat. Then she choked again and began to cough. She could hear again, but that did nothing to shake the stabbing, shattering pain.

Something scuffled. The sound was a few yards away, but coming closer. When May heard the sounds of a person fumbling with cloth, she tried to scream again, but only managed to eke out a slight shriek and more coughing.

"Shit, shit," the voice said, and now it was right in front of her. She recognized it immediately; so she was in Polly's house. It explained the now sweat-soaked plastic she was lying on.

Polly...

May was once again unable to think as the pain got worse. She clawed blindly, frantically at the side of the sofa, her own limbs, or anything that came within reach of her fingers. Still struggling for air, she let out more gagging coughs and the occasional gasp.

Now Polly's hands were at her wrists, restraining her. Some part of her mind dimly wondered if the girl had been this strong before, but the thought was snuffed out as Polly began to speak.

"Listen to me, May. Hold on; don't...no...don't you DARE slip away! This is gonna hurt, but you have to hold on no matter what happens, okay? I'll explain it later. Sorry."

Then a new, less insistent pain blossomed in May's neck. Some kind of sharp object was sinking into her jugular, and almost immediately afterward a stinging, pulling sensation began in the same area.

Unexpectedly, the hellish agony began to fade as the lesser pain continued. May felt herself gradually slipping back into nothing; the blackness that healed all wounds.

******

As "Dancing With the Stars" blared away on the television, Polly wondered many things. Had she done right? What would teaching a newbie be like? Would May's personality change? Should she really have bought dry cat food instead of canned last week?

Speak of the fuzzy devil, she thought as she bent down to pat the purring feline that was rubbing itself against her legs. A realization struck her, and she picked Crazy up. "I think you should go stay with Aunt Tricia for a while."

Polly stood, wobbling slightly on her high-heeled maribou slippers, and carried her cat into the laundry room. She balanced Crazy with one hand and undid the catch on a large plastic cat carrier with the other; with many yowling protests, the calico found himself confined to padded box.

"Sorry, but I don't feel like having my psycho girlfriend drain you when she wakes up. She'll be pretty thirsty, see."

Crazy made it known that he did not approve of Polly's reasoning.

"Yeah, well, tough luck, little guy. I left her alone with Loopy for two days and next thing I know he shows up in the autopsy room. And that was before she was a vampire!"

This dialogue was rudely interrupted by a loud THUD from the living room, which was followed by a slight squeal. Polly's eyes lit up.

"Gotta go, fuzzbutt! I'll call Trish later." With that, the vampire speed-walked from the room, her heels clicking against the linoleum floor.

There was a large lump on the off-white carped in the living room. The lump was partially covered in red-brown hair and was wearing a torn burgundy dress. That was good.

It was breathing, which was even better.

"May? Baby?" Polly asked tentatively.

The lump's head snapped up, revealing it to indeed be May. But something was different about her; not her physical appearance, but something else. It took Polly a few seconds to realize what it was.

May no longer looked human, at least, not to her. She had that faint aura around her of being simultaneously dangerous and welcoming; the older vampire was torn between shifting into a defensive stance and giving the newbie a hug. In short, May looked like a vampire.

If that wasn't enough to mark her, the first words out of her mouth cleared any doubt from Polly's mind.

"I need blood."

Polly bit her lip, swallowed nervously...and then smiled.

"Of course you do! Come with me."

---

:]]

Trumpy: Fired fired, you're fired fired you are. You're fired - fired, fired you're you're fired. Fire you, you are fired, fired you're fired are you. Fire, fired fire you are you're. Fired fired you're you are fired.

Translation: Hiy guys, I hope you liked this chapter. ChildofaBrokenDawn wrote it - she's pretty amazing I think. It was a good run, and now Lizzi Marie has to go write the next chapter for you enjoyment. Well, thanks for reading. Please review these ladies' story, and have a nice day.

Disclaimer: CoaBD/LM Don't own Dancing with the Stars, Trumpy [Donald Trump, whatever. Trumpy], or the AWESOME movie May.

And thanks to


	3. Chapter 3

TheAntiLiz: Wow. Uh. I forgot about this. I actually forgot about it more than once, and really could just not pick it back up. I totally lost the vibe for it. BUT...ChildofABrokenDawn and I finally got to talk the other day, and then I found this, and edited it slightly, and it is failish, but better than nil, and I should be beaten, the end.

ChildofABrokenDawn: *shrugs*

Trumpy: you you you're fired, you're fired fired you you're fired you you are fired fired. You, you're fired are you, you are you you are fired you're fired. Fire!

Translation: TheAntiLiz fails, the girls do not own May or me, and enjoy. Also, in your review, please beat TheAntiLiz with a painful object. Thanks!

-------

May was breathing heavily. She didn't need to, seeing as she was now undead, or at least halfway so, but the primal urges her brain was wracked with made the old habit very appealing. So she was. The brunette felt an insane urge to kill, to feed. She felt the sludgy, thick vampire blood in her system cry out for the watery blood of a human, to soothe its painful thickness.  
Polly was smiling at her warmly, tentatively, from across the room.  
"Now, now, dolly, we're going to get you some blood straightaway, just let me take care of-"  
Polly was interrupted by a loud blaring siren coming from the television.

"This is the Emergency Alert Service," it croaked mechanically. It beeped a moment longer before switching to a slim, Asian reporter who spoke impeccable English.  
"Police have just arrived at a vicious murder scene in middle California," she said, "It appears as though a deranged lover murdered one Adam Stubbs and his companion, whose identity is currently unknown.  
At this very moment, police are scouring the scene for any trace evid-"  
Polly clicked the television off and turned to May.  
"May," she said slowly and in a disapproving voice, "Did you kill your ex-boyfriend?"  
May frowned, and glared at Polly, "Blood," she demanded, simply.  
Polly sighed and trotted to refrigerator. She grabbed a plastic thing that looked like a heating bag, like the kind used for aches and bruises, and tossed it to May.  
"Hope you don't mind AB positive, rH factor negative," she said, "But stale blood-drive blood's gonna have to do for now. We have to skip town, sugar."  
May frowned at the bag, but bit into it anyways, draining it in mere seconds. She wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her dress, and tossed the bag into the kitchen.  
"Where are we going?" she asked quietly. "And do you have any more of that...AC positron?"  
Polly, who was rushedly throwing clothes into a duffle bag, replied nonchalantly, "Oh, the pigs will be after you soon. You know. For killing your ex and his new lover? Yeah..I'm not going to jail for harboring a criminal, and I like having you around, soo...We're leaving."  
"Where?" asked May, who stood, as if planted, to the middle of Polly's living room.  
"Oh, I dunno. Somewhere else. And it's AB positive, honey, and yes, but that should hold you over for a little bit, okay? I don't have very much, and it needs to spread out, so I can teach you some things."  
May frowned, and walked towards Polly.  
"Could I go get my own things?" she asked, a bit tentatively.  
"Yep, hurry...Wait...no, no I'll go with you. You might brutalize a nightly jogger or something for their blood," Polly said, throwing the duffle over her shoulder as though it were weightless. In reality, it weighed between fifty and sixty pounds, and was filled to the breaking point with clothes and toiletries. In another hand, she carried a blue cooler.  
"Whoa," May said, noting everything Polly was carrying, "How did you do that so fast?"  
"I'm awesome, and beautiful and smart," Polly said, and grabbed her keys with her forefinger, "Let's rocket!"

TheAntiLiz: Ha, I don't post it forever AND it's unforgivably short..

ChildofABrokenDawn: *disappointed in Tal's forgetfulness*

Trumpy: *fires Tal*


End file.
